L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

“Commander.” Maerkyn inclined his head more than was merely perfunctory but less than he probably would have to a male superior.

After she left the duty room, Saryn made her way back to her quarters, stopping only momentarily to check with Hryessa. Then, once she had washed up and changed into a clean uniform-and left the battle harness in her chambers, changing to a formal sword belt with a single short sword-Saryn made her way to Zeldyan’s private chambers, only to be informed by Lyentha that Zeldyan was in the lower tower council chamber. A few moments later, Saryn walked into the lower chamber, where Zeldyan was seated in one of the chairs-now around a circular table that had not been present when Saryn had last been in the chamber. Even in midday, with the brass lamps lit, the dark-paneled chamber was gloomy enough that Saryn wondered how Zeldyan could read the ledger before her.

“I saw you crossing the courtyard with young Maerkyn, and he did not look particularly happy,” offered Zeldyan, without rising from her chair.

“He was not, but I trust I left him in a better humor than then. I talked with your courier, and, although I cannot prove it, I know that my message to you was intercepted and read by Lord Henstrenn and returned to the courier without his knowledge of its absence. That might well explain why Keistyn was waiting to see me when we returned. Had I returned with less of a force, I doubt I would have made it safely to Lornth.”

“You are certain of this?”

“Keistyn was waiting, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Henstrenn was prepared as well in case I went that way. The armsman who arranged for the courier and his escorts to spend the night at Duevek was familiar with an undercaptain there. That armsman woke up ill the next morning and died two days later, supposedly of a flux, just before he was to reach Lornth. The courier admits he had a filling supper at Duevek and slept extraordinarily well that night.” Saryn shrugged.

“You are most suspicious, Saryn.” Zeldyan’s laugh was light and bitter. “That does sound like Henstrenn, leaving no way for anyone to prove anything.”

“Proof may be necessary for public action, but suspicion is sufficient for private precautions.”

“What precautions do you suggest?”

“Those will depend on what Lord Henstrenn has to say.”

“True.” Zeldyan closed the ledger and gestured to the chair at her right. “Join me. It should not be long before his lordship arrives. Henstrenn may be many things, but he is always punctual and attentive to the details, particularly those that do not inconvenience him greatly.”

A few moments after the tower bell rang announcing the turning of the glass at noon, the study door opened, and Lyentha announced, “Lord Henstrenn.”

Henstrenn, Lord of Duevek, was almost what Saryn expected, an older and more handsome version of Keistyn, his black hair shot with streaks of iron gray, and a warm smile on his face as he advanced toward Lady Zeldyan, his boots so light on the stone, then the worn dark green carpet, that his movements seemed almost feline. He stopped and bowed, then said, “My Lady Regent.” Then he turned to Saryn, and added, “Arms-Commander.”

Like Keistyn, Henstrenn had a deep, warm, and powerful voice, one whose friendliness could not have been more at odds with the coldness behind it, Saryn sensed, but she merely replied pleasantly, “Lord Henstrenn.”

“When I heard that the Arms-Commander of Westwind was visiting the regents,” Henstrenn went on, “I thought I would pay my respects to all the regents and the arms-commander.” He paused. “But apparently, I was mistaken about all the regents being present.”

“Your courtesy in wishing to see the arms-commander is much appreciated,” replied Zeldyan. “Please be seated.”

Henstrenn slipped into the seat directly across the table from Zeldyan with feral grace. “Will we be seeing the other regents?”

“My sire has indicated he is involved in training Lord Nesslek, and since I have not heard where Lord Kelthyn is located, it was not possible to contact him in a timely manner,” replied Zeldyan. “We frankly did not expect that the arms-commander would respond so quickly.”

Henstrenn smiled warmly, as did his deep brown eyes. “I have heard that the Marshal of Westwind is not one to tarry. Once she discovered Lord Arthanos marching an army toward the Roof of the World, she destroyed it.” He looked to Saryn. “Or are those reports incorrect or overstated?”

“Lord Arthanos had about nine thousand men, mounted and foot,” replied Saryn. “All but about two hundred perished.”

“I had not heard the details. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to how this amazing destruction was accomplished.”

“I am not privy to all the weapons that the Marshal has at her disposal.” Most, but not all. “I do know that her archers alone slew hundreds, and that we could find no trace, even of the bodies, of most of those who perished.”

“Mighty sorcery, it would appear, must have destroyed the remainder. Would you know just what type of sorcery, Arms-commander?”

“I could not possibly describe the means by which it happened, Lord Henstrenn. I can only say that when the smoke and dust cleared, there was no sign of Lord Arthanos and his army, save a company or so of rear guards and ten supply wagons.” All that was perfectly true, if misleading. For a moment, Saryn could sense that, in some way, her words had discomfited the man, if but for a moment.

“It must be of some concern to those in Westwind that their safety rests so entirely on one person, mighty as the Marshal must be.”

“That is no different from the ruler of any other land, is it?” replied Saryn. “The responsibility lies upon the ruler to find the people and tools by which he or she can best protect the land and those upon it.”

“Lord-holders share that responsibility, if on a lesser scale,” offered Henstrenn. “We must balance what has been with what is best for the future, commensurate with the resources at hand.”

“You state that concisely and well,” said Zeldyan.

“Thank you, your grace. Now that the arms-commander is indeed here in Lornth, might I ask what your plans are?”

“You may indeed, Lord Henstrenn. We will be visiting a number of holdings so that the holders may meet Commander Saryn and come to understand better why it is good to have an ally such as Westwind between us and Gallos…as well as flanking Suthya.”

“You realize, Lady Zeldyan, that we would not have difficulties with Suthya had Lornth in an earlier time not taken action to seize certain lands and the port of Rulyarth?”

“That is an interesting way of putting it, since Rulyarth and the lands along the river had belonged to Lornth for centuries until they were seized a generation ago. Reclaiming what was historically ours should not have been unexpected by the Suthyans.”

“No, Lady, but taking it without the means to hold it for long exposed us to greater danger than not taking it at all. Still…I would not dwell on Suthya, for what is past is past.”

There was a silence, although Saryn could sense Zeldyan’s concealed anger. After a moment, Saryn said, “As you may have heard, Lord Henstrenn, because traders do tend to cross the Roof of the World, we do occasionally hear intriguing bits of news. One that the Marshal found of great interest was that a Suthyan trader apparently visited several holdings in Lornth. What seemed strange was that he took no goods with him, just armsmen bound to the Suthyan Council. Because your holding is closer to the roads that the traders follow, I was wondering what else you might be able to add to what the Marshal conveyed to the regents.”

Henstrenn was not surprised by Saryn’s words, either in expression or within, which confirmed for her that he already knew that she knew of his dealings with Baorl. “I could not possibly add to anything that the most powerful Marshal of Westwind has determined to have occurred. I would say that any holder who would protect his people will listen to all sources of information, but listening does not mean that loyalties change in the slightest, only that one listens, just as you, Lady Zeldyan, and the regents listen to me and to the arms-commander.”